


In Which Angelfish Can Indeed Get Depression

by HashtagLEH



Series: MerMay 2020 [2]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Baku Sam Wilson, Beefy Bucky Barnes, Bogeyman Brock Rumlow, Cecaelia Tony Stark, Human Steve Rogers, M/M, Matchmaker Natasha Romanov, MerMay, Merperson Bucky Barnes, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Non-Serum Steve Rogers, OctoTony, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, shrinkyclinks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:20:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23953738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HashtagLEH/pseuds/HashtagLEH
Summary: “Hi,” the boy said, his voice deeper than Bucky had expected. “Are you James?”“Bucky is fine,” he answered, crossing his arms over his chest before he realized it probably came off as defensive and dropped them at his sides. “Natasha send you?”The blond man blinked, and then shook his head. “No,” he denied, “But I mean, I did hear about you from her. But, I’m sorry to bother you this late at night, but I heard you can talk to fish and I’m pretty sure something is wrong with my angelfish. Can they get depression?”
Relationships: Implied Natasha Romanov/Sam Wilson - Relationship, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: MerMay 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1724359
Comments: 21
Kudos: 373





	In Which Angelfish Can Indeed Get Depression

**Author's Note:**

> Another college one...I promise that not all of them will happen in college. It just so happens that that's the one I decided to write next lol.
> 
> I hope you like it!

Bucky groaned to himself as a knock came on his door at – he peered blearily at the alarm clock – eleven-thirty at night. He had been asleep for barely an hour, and as it was a Wednesday he had a seven AM class the next day, so _why_ would someone be knocking at his dorm right now?

His roommate was gone, probably out partying, and Bucky normally thought good riddance to that because Brock was an ass he wanted to be around as little as possible, but right then he just didn’t want to answer the door, and wished Brock could do it.

Then again, he supposed as he dragged himself out of bed, chances were equally likely that Brock would ignore it anyway. Or would creepily flirt with whoever it was.

The person knocked again, more insistently, and Bucky shouted, “I’m comin’!” in irritation. He threw the door open, ready to grouch and growl at whoever was bothering him this late at night, when he actually _saw_ who it was and the words dried in his throat.

The young man was small, and skinny, and blond, and Bucky might have thought he was a fairy if it weren’t for the fact that his freckles didn’t shine like specks of glitter. His eyes were blue and large, and he was wearing suspenders and Doc Martens in a bright, shiny red and Bucky was hit with a sudden urge of _want_. He wished he hadn’t put on a shirt on his way out, because now he couldn’t subtly flex for him and he had to use every asset at his disposal. And he was well aware he had a great torso, especially on land where they didn’t use their muscles so much, not needing them to swim and therefore made said muscles more attractive.

“Hi,” the boy said, his voice deeper than Bucky had expected. “Are you James?”

Bucky sighed, suddenly knowing who had told this boy about him, because there was only one person in the world who called him James and got away with it. This was probably another one of Natasha’s attempts to set him up, and he was _tired_ of it, well-meaning as he knew it was. Maybe he _was_ glad he’d worn a shirt.

“Bucky is fine,” he answered, crossing his arms over his chest before he realized it probably came off as defensive and dropped them at his sides. “Natasha send you?”

The blond man blinked, and then shook his head. “No,” he denied, “But I mean, I did hear about you from her. But, I’m sorry to bother you this late at night, but I heard you can talk to fish and I’m pretty sure something is wrong with my angelfish. Can they get depression?”

Bucky’s eyebrows creased, and he squinted at the blond. “I can’t talk to fish,” he said honestly, and then rolled his eyes. “Is that what Natasha told you?”

The man deflated, and then shook his head. “I mean, not exactly. She said you have a way with fish. So you’re _not_ a Speaker?”

Bucky chuckled a little, charmed by the small blond, especially now that he knew he wasn’t a part of Natasha’s schemes to get him a boyfriend. “Nah, and I don’t think Natasha totally understands me, either. We’re not too common up here, I guess. I’m a merman.”

Predictably, the blond’s eyes swept down to his legs, looking confused. He didn’t ask about his transformation though like Bucky expected when people found out what he was, instead looking back up at him and saying, “So you _can’t_ help my fish?”

“I didn’t say that,” Bucky denied, smirking a little. “Take me to your fish – I’ll see what I can do.” He didn’t know exactly what he could do if this fish had a serious problem, but at least this was an excuse to keep talking to the attractive man.

The man’s face instantly flooded with relief. “ _Thank you_ ,” he said fervently as Bucky slipped his feet into his sandals next to the door and closed the door behind him. “I’m Steve, by the way.”

“Can’t say this is the weirdest way I’ve ever met someone,” Bucky mused, following Steve down the hall to the elevator. “But it’s up there.”

Steve’s face went a little red at that, and his fingers played with the hem of his shirt almost absentmindedly before he seemed to realize what he was doing and forced his hands to his sides. Bucky thought it was a little endearing, but didn’t say anything about it.

“What’s the weirdest?” Steve asked him before the silence could become awkward. He pressed the button to call the elevator to them, and Bucky leaned against the wall while he waited.

“Probably when a cecaelia thought I was stalking him to try and kill off another mer so there would be less at the school, and he threatened me with a fork to stay away,” Bucky said with only a bare moment to think about it.

Steve’s expression was incredulous, and fighting laughter. “A _fork_?”’

“In Tony’s defense, he hadn’t slept in about a hundred hours and was especially paranoid and running on caffeine alone,” Bucky laughed. “We’re friends now though, so it’s okay.”

“I’ll have to watch out for cecaelias with forks in the future,” Steve chuckled. The elevator doors opened, and they stepped on. Bucky saw him press the button for the fourth floor, which was two above Bucky.

“So, what’s your fish’s name?” Bucky asked idly, trying not to make it obvious that he was checking Steve out. Normally khakis were unflattering on anyone, no matter their species or gender, but somehow they looked perfect on Steve, hugging his ass tightly but not obscenely.

“Captain,” Steve responded. “My mom bought him for me at the beginning of this term, so he’s definitely not old and dying. They’re supposed to live for several years.”

Bucky looked at him dryly. “I know.”

“Well, considering that you can’t talk to them after all, I don’t know how much you know!” Steve said indignantly, puffing up a little. He reminded him of a puffer fish, face going red. Bucky decided not to tease him further though, because some puffer fish exploded if they puffed too much and he didn’t know what Steve might do.

“Fair point,” he acknowledged as the doors opened. He gestured broadly for Steve to lead the way, and after giving him a little glare, Steve walked out, Bucky trailing behind him.

“Anyway, I have a big tank for him,” Steve said, “Because since it’s an angelfish they’re supposed to like open spaces. I feed him enough and he has a little hut for when he wants to be in the dark, but he only comes out of the hut to eat. I’m pretty sure he’s depressed, but I don’t know what to _do_ for him.”

Bucky hummed as Steve opened the door to what he supposed was his own dorm. He walked in, closing the door behind him and seeing a dark-skinned man sitting on the couch, clearly doing homework.

“Hey, Sam, this is Bucky,” Steve said, waving an arm toward Bucky. Bucky gave a short little wave of greeting, but Sam glared at him distrustfully.

“You’re Rumlow’s friend,” he said flatly.

“Roommate,” Bucky corrected. “And only because there are no other spots available in the dorm hall for me to move anywhere else.”

Sam’s expression lightened at this, looking more relaxed now. Steve said, “He’s gonna see what’s wrong with Captain.” Sam waved a hand, turning back to his homework, and Bucky followed Steve down the hallway.

“Sam is a Baku,” Steve said, quietly enough that Sam wouldn’t hear him from the front room.

“Ah,” Bucky said. Sam’s hatred of Brock would make sense, then. Brock was a bogeyman and the exact opposite of Sam, who got rid of others’ nightmares; they were hereditary enemies who would never get along.

“I mean, Rumlow is a douche anyway,” Steve said with a shrug, “So I’m human but I still hate him about as much as Sam does.”

“True and fair,” Bucky agreed, and would have asked more about Steve, except that’s when the blond opened the door to his room, and Bucky saw the large fish tank in one corner of the room, right next to Steve’s bed.

He glanced around the room, taking it in quickly even as he followed Steve over to the tank. The room was more tidy than he expected, no dirty clothes littered about the floor, but there were still signs that Steve was far from a neat freak. His bed was unmade and there was a plate on his desk with dried sour cream, clearly from whatever he’d had for dinner that night.

“Hey, he’s come out from his hut,” Steve said, bending down to look among the greenery he’d placed inside to make it look more like it was real. Bucky tore his eyes away from Steve’s ass, bending down next to him and looking inside.

When he saw the fish, his lips twitched a little and he looked at Steve. Steve was still looking at the fish, and the light in the tank was showing off his freckles more starkly. Bucky wanted to kiss each one.

“Is this your first fish?” he asked.

“I mean, I had a goldfish as a kid but I don’t really remember caring for it,” Steve said, eyes focused worriedly on the fish in the tank that was only moving its fins enough to stay in place, not even bothering to swim around the rest of the tank. “Other than that, just Captain.”

“Well, I know what’s wrong with him,” Bucky said with a shrug, rising again. Steve looked at him, standing up straight too, though he was much smaller and barely reached his shoulder. His eyes were worried, almost distraught, like he was preparing himself for the worst. Bucky found it endearing that he was so worried about a fish.

“What?” Steve asked, clenching his fists at his sides like he was bracing himself.

“This is a French angelfish,” Bucky said, looking back at said fish. “They mate for life. If they don’t have their mate they get depressed. So yeah, your fish has depression – you guessed right.”

Steve blinked at him, clearly not having expected that. “So…I just need to find him a mate? I need another fish?”

“Another French angelfish, yes,” Bucky said. “Most fish are pretty social, so you don’t really want _any_ singlular pet fish, but French angelfish in particular need to have a mate of their kind with them or they turn out like this.” He motioned to the tank as he spoke.

“Oh,” Steve said, looking back at his pet. “Well, at least it’s an easy fix. I don’t know how I would get a fish to have therapy. Maybe find an _actual_ Speaker.”

Bucky laughed a little, and stepped away from the tank, toward the door. He wanted to stay, but he didn’t know what to say that could extend his stay, and he was definitely too cowardly to just ask Steve out right then and there. They’d only met each other less than ten minutes ago.

“So…is that all you needed help with?” he asked awkwardly.

Steve’s head darted around to look at Bucky, and he looked a little nervous but still determined when he said, “Could you help me? To find a mate for Captain?”

“It’s almost midnight – pet stores aren’t open,” Bucky pointed out, raising an eyebrow.

Steve waved a hand dismissively, even when his face flushed a little. “ _Duh_ ,” he emphasized. “I meant, tomorrow? You know more about fish than I do and I don’t want to accidentally get one that will hate him. Or vice versa.”

“Sure,” Bucky found himself saying. Hey, it was the excuse he was looking for to see Steve again. And hey, maybe it meant Steve wanted Bucky to stay longer, too. “I have class till twelve-thirty tomorrow. I can come by here after?”

Steve’s expression was relieved, and he grinned at him. “Sure,” he said.

Suddenly feeling bold, Bucky blurted, “We could grab lunch beforehand. I won’t have eaten yet – I usually eat after I get back.”

“Oh – I don’t want to make it inconvenient for you,” Steve said, looking concerned. “You can come here whenever you’re free.”

“I’m free after twelve-thirty,” Bucky said firmly, hoping that Steve was just oblivious and not trying to let him down easy. “I am asking if you want to go to lunch with me.”

“Oh,” Steve said, and then he grinned. “Sure. It’s a date.”

 _Damn right, it is_ , Bucky thought, and then said aloud with a parting smile, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He passed Sam on the way down the hall, who was walking toward the other room, clearly his own. He gave him a little nod, not really aware and his stomach feeling light with the excitement of having a date with the attractive human.

Walking down the hall, Sam saw Steve standing next to his fish tank, a dopey smile on his face as he stared at nothing, clearly lost in his own thoughts. Sam left him to it, going into his own room as he pulled out his phone.

 _The idiots have finally met,_ he texted. _And they’re going out tomorrow afternoon._

Natasha’s response was immediate, and contained only one word: _Finally._


End file.
